The Demon in Me
by ellesxjadore
Summary: The return of a much changed John Allerdyce to the mansion causes much speculation among staff and students. Little do they know that the past is catching up with them, and that previous miracles will have disastrous consequences. RYRO
1. No Second Chances

Well, this is new. Thanks to watching numerous X-Men music videos on YouTube, I'm finally out of my writer's block. I've never attempted an X-Men story before, so you'll have to tell me how I'm doing. I value your opinions! Apologies for my Power Rangers readers. I've had the longest summer holiday of my life (eleven weeks to be precise) and not written a single word of 'Hear Me'. Sorry. Bad, bad author.

Must clear some things up before the story begins…

This takes place approximately three weeks after X-Men: The Last Stand. All events happened, except Scott Summers survived his encounter with Jean, and Professor Xavier was saved by Magneto. Jean Grey was still killed by Logan. Rogue still received the Cure.

I think that's about it. Now, sit back, relax and hopefully (fingers crossed) enjoy my story…

**---**

'**The Demon in Me'**

**By Sergeant Scarlett**

**Chapter One: No Second Chances**

Cold. Never in his life had he felt it like this. The burning sensation of a thousand knives brutally piercing the body, ripping off every piece of flesh, leaving nothing but bare bones. It was pain; torture; death. All feeling then numbed; biting the lip so hard that blood blossomed, and yet it didn't hurt. He couldn't feel anything except the loneliness that clothed him now.

As John Allerdyce finally came around, he found he couldn't see. Perhaps one of the explosions had blinded him. His hearing quickly intensified, listening to the sound of the wind whistling, fires still crackling, emergency services crawling over the scene searching for survivors.

How many had he killed with his flames of fury? How many innocent people had lost their lives, just so he could prove his worth? John choked back his vomit, suddenly realising the cause of the lack of pain.

A hefty iron bar lay across his legs, pinning him to the ground. It had cut deep into his skin, exposing dripping crimson blood. And then he felt it. He reared back his head and tried to scream, but no sound emerged.

"We haven't checked over here yet, Jim, come on."

Voices. Close by too.

"It's hopeless, Mick. All those we've found so far have either been dead or blown to smithereens by that crazy Phoenix chick. We ain't gonna find no-one else."

They came closer. "That may be so, but our orders were to search everywhere… Hey, I found someone! Over here!"

John listened as the two voices sprinted to his side. He could see the looks of disgust on their faces, even without sight. On of them felt the pulse on his neck.

"Unconscious by the look of things. And look at there; that's a nasty cut across his face! I'm surprised he survived that, Jim. We need to get a team over here to lift the bar."

"Wait, Mick. We don't have to tell anyone about this. Don't you know who this is? Magneto's right-hand man. He was all over the news. He used to belong to those X-Men, but he betrayed them. See that thing on his arm? That's what he uses to ignite fire, and then scorches whatever's in his way. He dangerous, and he doesn't deserve to live. He doesn't deserve a second chance."

Anger boiled from within John's wounded chest. This guy didn't know the meaning of dangerous. But instead of sending him up in smoke, John didn't move. He knew his only chance of surviving was if the other guy, Mick, decided to save him.

"I'm not saying he's going to get one. It's our duty to make sure he stays alive. After that, we can hand him over to the police, or the FBI, whoever. They can deal with him then. Give me a hand, and we'll get this thing off him."

The other guy gave a reluctant sigh. "After the count of three, then. One, two, three…"

John felt an immense relief as the weight was lifted off his legs. It felt a lot like freedom, but he knew that was a far away dream. It'd take a lot more than having the bar taken away to finally have his old life back, the life at Xavier's Institute that he traded in for power as Magneto's second.

_And look where it got me, _John though in disgust. _Chances are I'll never be able to walk again._ _Or see at this rate._ _All for a chance to use my gift for someone who appreciates it…_

He was carefully lifted by four men and placed onto a stretcher, hopefully bound for the nearest hospital. Still unable to see, John heard a set of doors close; he presumed he was now in an ambulance. Paramedics began bandaging his wounds, mainly his legs, but one placed heavy duty plasters on parts of his face. John tasted blood on his lips; bitter, the taste of defeat.

A gentle prick in his arm told John he was being put under sedation for the pain. He felt his whole body become heavy before he went to sleep again.

_Why didn't _you_ save me Bobby…?_

---

_Flames engulfed the entire area, lighting it. It was too bright; she shielded her eyes from the terror below, from her fellow X-Men battling as hard as they could to eyes that produced the fire, the eyes that burned with it._

_Ice and fire met with fury. The force of the fight shook the island. Onlookers watched as the fire took Bobby Drake and gasped. A wave of relief came as the Iceman took full control of his powers, turning his body into shimmering ice. His opponent, his enemy fell after a heavy blow to the head. Pyro had been defeated. John Allerdyce had been put in his place at last…_

She woke with a sudden force, as though the dream didn't wish for her to stay any longer, as though she shouldn't be there. Although she wasn't there when the actual event happened, Marie knew it was Alcatraz from what Bobby had told her. It hadn't been pretty.

Marie wiped stray tears from her eyes. She wasn't even sure why she was crying. After she'd taken the cure two weeks ago, she'd begun to feel very emotional at times. Usually it was a combination of the loss of her powers, her identity as Rogue, losing three adults she trusted with her life and mainly the tearing apart of the only friendships she had ever known.

Best friends Bobby Drake and John Allerdyce had welcomed Marie D'Ancanto into their small family with open arms. Bobby, because he cared and a crush; John because…

It was something Marie had never mused about before. Why had John accepted her so easily, especially with his arrogant, smug attitude? More importantly, Marie saw her budding relationship with Bobby more important than their threesome friendship. That's why she hadn't tried to convince John to stay. She regretted as soon he'd left the jet.

Pulling her curtains apart, Marie just caught the Sun peek out from the horizon. Watching as the sky was tainted with fiery oranges and reds, she remembered the only time she'd seen John after he'd left…

_After waiting for what seemed like decades, she was finally at the front of the queue. She checked herself in at reception._

"_Name?" the blonde receptionist asked kindly._

"_Rogue – I mean, Marie D'Ancanto."_

_Only minutes later, she was sitting in a chair being strapped in gently by two assistants. Her eyes widened at the sight of the needle being held by the middle-aged male doctor to her left. Another doctor, this one female, reached to pull off one of Rogue's long gloves._

"_Wait! I could kill you if you touch me," she warned in a shaky voice. _

_The female doctor looked sympathetic. "So, you've never touched anyone?"_

"_Not properly for three years," Rogue replied quietly. _

_The doctor pressed an antiseptic onto Rogue's arm, and then injected her with the cure. "Hopefully this will be your salvation, Marie."_

_A fiery sensation spread throughout her body, from the furthest corners of her brain right to her toes. Rogue gave a small squeal as the needle was pulled out of her skin._

"_How long will it take to work?"_

_The female doctor held out her hand. Rogue grasped it tightly._

_Nothing happened._

_A rare genuine smile appeared on her face. "Thank you," she whispered. _

_With Rogue finally gone, Marie ran, feeling as though everything was right with the world. She burst through the doors of the clinic into the open street. She then stopped suddenly when seeing Bobby's retreating back across the street. What was he doing here? Her jubilation was short lived. As soon as Bobby disappeared into the crowd of protestors, her eyes found another familiar face. _

_John had changed. It was mainly his hair, dyed to match his love of fire, but what really struck Marie was how he held himself. He'd always been cocky, but now he stood with confidence and purpose. Wait. Perhaps he'd come after her too! Maybe he'd left Magneto, and came here with Bobby to convince her not to take the cure!_

_Marie tried to catch his eye, but couldn't. He seemed to be staring after Bobby. She needed to get his attention._

"_John! John, over here!" she called. Each time her voice grew louder. "John! John!"_

_He didn't hear her. _

_Just as she was about to try again, John raised a hand. Large jets of flames shot from his fingertips and into the clinic. The windows burst, the whole building igniting within seconds. The crowd panicked and began to disperse. When Marie looked for him, she found he'd gone already. _

_His actions weren't a shock. Marie was all too familiar with how John loved playing with fire, even in extreme terms. _

_So he hadn't come after her. He was just on another one of Magneto's anti-cure missions. This brought Marie back down to Earth with an uncomfortable bump._

A sharp knock at the door brought Marie out of her musings. "Hey Rogue, can I come in?"

"Sure Bobby."

The door flew open revealing a dishevelled Bobby Drake, still in his pinstriped pyjamas. Only his eyes looked truly awake. He opened his mouth to speak, but found he couldn't.

"Bobby, what's wrong?" Concerned, Marie took his hand in hers, something which she delighted in doing now.

Finally, Bobby found his voice.

"It's John. He's outside."


	2. Return to Hell

The amount of feedback I had for chapter one was aMazing. A deep, heartfelt thank-you to all of you who reviewed and encouraged me on, and thank-you also to those who just read, but hopefully still enjoyed it.

I've recently read some really excellent Pyro stories, my favourites being **'Stranger'** by freakochicko, **'A Love That's So Demanding'** by Sublime Angel, '**Not Broken'** by DarkClerk and '**Tabula Rasa'** by Ebon Hush. They have really inspired me in writing this, and I'd advise all of you to go check those stories.

As a first time X-Men: The Movie writer, I need guidance from those of you who know the fandom well. If you see any glitches in the timeline, the characterisation, etc, please let me know. I'd be most grateful.

So, please read on!

---

'**The Demon in Me'**

**By Sergeant Scarlett**

**Chapter Two: Return to Hell**

"It's John. He's outside."

Marie felt her heart give a very involuntary somersault. She was sure she hadn't heard Bobby properly. Either that or he just said…

"What?" It came out as a ghostly whisper.

"John. Outside. Now." Bobby stated slowly, as though not daring to believe it himself. "Don't ask me why. This sound woke me up. I looked out of my window and saw Dr McCoy getting out of a car. With him came –"

"John," Marie breathed. The shock quickly evaporated. It was replaced by a mixture of confusing emotions: fear, rage, disbelief.

Bobby pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms closely around her. "This isn't going to be easy. For either of us. We'll just take it one step at a time. For all we know, he won't even acknowledge us."

Marie sighed. Bobby was right. Having John here wasn't going to be a walk in the park. Questions bubbled up inside her. Why wasn't he in prison? Why was he here instead? Could their friendship be saved?

She felt Bobby slip his hand into hers. "Come on, let's go and find out what's happening."

No sooner than they were out of the door did they realise that the rest of the mansion had exactly the same idea. Some of the very young students skipped merrily down the stairs, curious as to who was there, obviously not realising the possible danger that awaited them in the hall. Older pupils like Colossus, Warren, Kitty and Jubilee hung back, knowing full well who had just arrived. The six of them cautiously leant over the banister.

Storm, already fully dressed, was ushering the younger students back upstairs. Logan, still in boxers and a ruffled shirt, was talking in deep conversation with the blue furry mutant, Dr Hank McCoy.

Jubilee, closest to what was going on, couldn't hear a thing. She turned and shook her head to the others in defeat. None of them could see their visitor, and none of them were sure if they wanted to.

---

Below, with the children finally back upstairs, Storm turned and embraced her friend, though not with her usual warmth.

"So everything's in place. I don't think there's anything we've forgotten," she began, addressing the Beast. "Logan's set up a room for him, well away from the other students for now." She lowered her voice in case of being overheard. "Are you sure this is the right decision? I mean, shouldn't he be in prison?"

"No, I don't think so, Ororo. He's been fine while recovering in hospital. Quite the gentleman, actually. He's not a danger to anyone anymore," Hank replied quietly.

Logan cut in. "Listen, I know you, Scott and the Professor agreed to this, Storm, but you know I've been against it from the start. Once a traitor, always a traitor, in my book. If I had my way, he'd be locked up for life."

"Hey, you're not perfect yourself, you know?" Storm snapped. "This boy has always had it tough. He deserves another chance."

Logan snorted. "Reality check, Storm: we've all had it tough." Clearly not in the mood to talk any further, the Wolverine marched back in the direction of his room, eager for an extra few hours of sleep before classes began.

Storm sighed at her friend's temper.

"Anyway, I'd better get going," said Hank. "Let me know how the boy gets on."

"I will. Thanks for bringing him, Hank. Not many people would have done it, transporting a former terrorist to a school facility."

Hank laughed jovially. "Ah Storm, when have I ever tried to follow what everyone else does?" With a short nod of the head, Dr McCoy was out of the door and on his way. Breathing in deeply, Storm prepared herself for the endless questions that would be facing her later that day.

---

As the clock struck nine, Bobby and Marie raced to their first class of the day, Mutant Ethics with Professor Xavier. The Professor disliked his pupils being late, and Marie especially hated disappointing him. He was very rarely ever angry, but worse than him shouting was the low, sad voice he used when telling off pupils.

Her reason for her lateness was not, as most would have thought, a quick make-out session with Bobby in his room, but mentally psyching herself out for the re-introduction of John into the class. It was inevitable, she told herself.

She and Bobby took the stairs two at a time and burst into the classroom. The Professor ceased talking as they entered. Everyone else stared at them harshly.

"Robert, Marie, please take your seats. Near the front, if you will."

Marie was sure she caught a ghost of a smile on the Professor's kind face. When they were seated, he resumed talking to the class.

"As I was saying, today we'll be starting a new topic, one which I don't think any of you will have ever covered before, even the older students." He said this with a brief glance at Bobby, Pete and Jubilee, who looked keen and interested.

"First, let me begin with a question: who here believes their personal abilities as mutants are useful? Do they help other people, and not only yourself?"

A few hands were raised cautiously into the air.

"Yes, Robert?"

Bobby leant forward keenly to answer. "This is a little far-fetched, Professor, but if I were to do some volunteer work in a third-world country, or within a charity with little money, I could freeze food so it would keep longer. Less money would have to be spent on fresher food."

"A decent answer. Now, another question: who thinks their powers are completely useless?"

More hands were raised. "Yes, Jubilation?"

"Yeah, Professor, what I'm I supposed to do with these random sparks flying out of my hands? They don't do anything!" Jubilee ranted. "I mean, it'd be okay if they actually did something, but all they do is crackle!"

The Professor chuckled. "True, but your powers have yet to develop. Anyone else? Marie?"

The other students stared at her, regarding her strangely. Marie imagined what they were saying in their heads…

_She can't answer. She doesn't HAVE powers._

_She's not a mutant anymore._

_She took that Cure._

"Well," she began, taking a deep breath, "when I did have my powers, they were no good to me or anyone else for that matter. I was deprived of physically touching someone, and when I did, that particular someone would get seriously hurt, or worse, die. My powers were completely useless."

"Well answered, Marie, though I'm not sure you were considering it from both sides," Professor Xavier continued. "Now, let's look at it from a different angle: how do we categorise our powers into what is useful, what is useless; what is dangerous and what is safe?"

The class was silent. After a few moments, Kitty Pryde raised her hand.

"I suppose you can't judge someone's mutant abilities simply on what they are," she began slowly, thinking hard. "For example, Storm's weather manipulating powers could wipe out the planet if she wanted them to, but they could also provide rain in countries suffering from drought, and so on…"

Kitty paused, considering how to conclude. The Professor urged her on. "Go on, Kitty." She continued more confidently, the whole class eager to hear her opinion.

"A mutant's abilities can only be considered dangerous if he or she uses them for dangerous means. So, it's not what the powers are, or how strong they are, but how they are used, and what they are used for."

The Professor smiled widely. "I agree most strongly, Kitty. Thank you for your contribution. As for the rest of you, do you agree? What really defines our abilities?"

Several students were eager to answer, but the class froze as someone knocked smartly on the classroom door.

"Come in," called the Professor.

The door was opened by Storm, who entered the room, followed by Logan. Storm strode over to the Professor and whispered something in his ear, something the other students couldn't hear.

"Yes, of course," Professor Xavier answered. "Bring him in."

Logan beckoned to the door. Scott entered with a young man holding tightly onto his arm. Scott guided him in.

Marie shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

It was John.

This certainly wasn't the John Allerdyce she remembered. Marie could tell the other students, especially Bobby, were thinking the same thing.

His hair was the same colour as it was three weeks ago, but it was untidy, unkempt. Clothes hung off his thin, scrawny frame, and there was slight limp when he walked. Running from his left eyebrow down to his right cheek was a six-inch gnash that was close to healing. He had to cling for Cyclops for support, but not only because of his limp.

Wrapped around his head and over both his eyes was a thick bandage. And that's when it hit Marie.

He couldn't see.


	3. Not One of Us

It still amazes me how many of you are reviewing. You're so much better than the ones who read my Power Rangers stories. I'm lucky if I get four a chapter!

As a very special treat, I decided to post this two days earlier than intended. As I've already explained to one reviewer, the temptation to put the plot on full thrust is massive. I've got SO much planned. I just hope you'll still be here for when the REAL stuff begins!

Any mistakes? Please let me know! Read on!

---

'**The Demon in Me'**

**By Sergeant Scarlett**

**Chapter Three: Not One of Us**

Wrapped around his head and over both his eyes was a thick bandage. And that's when it hit Marie.

He couldn't see.

The whole room fell into a deathly silence, many students holding their breath in fear of what might happen next. Marie was almost too scared to turn and face Bobby, and as she did, she immediately regretted it. The Iceman's whole expression was blank, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief. Marie knew what he was thinking.

_It's a trick. My imagination is playing games with me. This isn't John Allerdyce. It's not Pyro either. Both of them are gone. _

Professor Xavier broke the uncomfortable quietness that held the room. "Welcome back, John. We were just discussing what defines our abilities as mutants. Would you care to join us?"

Finally, John spoke.

"Us?" he said sharply, but with a stammer that shook his voice violently.

"Yes, John," Storm replied carefully. "This is the Professor's Mutant Ethics class."

John did not respond to this, making the class feel even more uneasy. After a while, he merely nodded. Scott led him to a spare seat near the front next to Bobby. Marie held her breath as Bobby watched John be guided into the chair. Unable to fully comprehend that his old friend was sitting next to him, Bobby suddenly shot out of his seat and stormed out of the room, pushing past Logan and Storm on the way.

"Who – who was that?" came John's voice, turning his head to the source of the noise.

No-one dared to answer him. John hung his head almost shamefully.

With a nod of approval from the Professor, Scott, Storm and Logan retreated from the room, leaving the class staring at John.

"If you could all avert your attention to me," the Professor interrupted, "we can resume the lesson." The class did so, though reluctantly. "Good, now, where were we?"

---

Feeling completely isolated and alone, John only just managed to restrain himself throughout the lesson. He felt the accusing gazes of his fellow students burning into him, so unlike the familiar feeling of his fire. It was cold and lonely knowing no-one cared if he were alive or dead.

He wondered who was in the class with him. He could count on the fact that Bobby Drake had left in a hurry before, meaning that the rest of the class were the older students: Colossus, Jublilation Lee, Warren Worthington III, Kitty Pryde and Rogue. Three of them had been there at Alcatraz, watching him send fiery vehicles at them, and duelling with Bobby. What must they be thinking?

_Pyro betrayed us._

_He joined Magneto._

_Pyro is a terrorist._

_He can't be trusted._

And the worst one of all…

_He's not one of us._

For the chance to be accepted for what he was, John had left. He wanted to be appreciated. When here at school, he was held back, put in detention for doing the stupidest things. None of them understood. Drake, Kitty, the others…they were weak. They refused the embrace their abilities. Rogue especially. John wondered if Rogue actually had had the guts to not go through with taking the Cure. Perhaps she was different from the rest of them.

As Xavier was babbling on about using one's powers for destructive means, John shifted in his seat. Although not deliberately directed at him, he felt the class stare at him. The uncomfortable feeling returned.

Pain suddenly flashed across his head. His hand flew to the spot, mentally cursing himself. Ever since they took him into that prison facility it'd be happening. Headaches disappearing faster than they'd appeared. Coming over faint, and then feeling as right as rain. It was disturbing to say the least. Ever since…

The shrill ringing of the bell shocked the pain in his forehead further. And then it vanished. Students were out of the room quickly, some even purposely knocking John's shoulder or desk as they passed. Rage boiled inside of him. The temptation of turning them all to ash was immensely powerful, but it was useless. He had to be a good boy now. It was either that or the death sentence.

That was what the court had decided. Xavier himself had been present.

_Pyro was led by two armed prison officers into the stand. Chatter in the jury subsided at once, obviously glaring at him. _

_The trial continued in a most uninteresting fashion. Many presented evidence: military generals, police officers, the list was endless. All of them said the same thing. _

"_This boy is a menace. He's a bad-tempered, mouthy teenager with no regard for anyone but himself. He was lazy in school and won't listen to anyone. To top it all, he's a mutant, and a dangerous one. He can manipulate fire into anything he wants. He was a real danger when he joined Magneto. He has no self-control and is a liability in society. He cannot be reprimanded."_

_Pyro listened to all this with white hot anger. He longed to show them just how dangerous he was. He wanted to burn…to kill…_

_After hearing all the evidence from witnesses of Alcatraz and the incident at Bobby's house, the jury had made their decision. The head of the jury stood, and read in a clear, controlled voice._

"_For the attempted murder of numerous individuals; guilty._

"_For the bodily harm of many; guilty._

"_For use of mutant abilities against the Mutant Control Act; guilty._

"_And for attempted arson; guilty."_

_Pyro betrayed no emotion at that moment. He suspected he should be feeling guilty or remorseful. He didn't._

_The Judge cleared his voice. _

"_John Allerdyce, you are hereby sentenced to death by lethal injection with immediate effect. Until such a time can be arranged, you will be in solitary confinement. Do you unders-"_

"_Excuse me, your Honour," cut in an all too familiar voice. Pyro recognised it as Professor Xavier's. "May I propose an alternative?"_

_He did. Xavier's idea was to bring John Allerdyce back to the school for mutants outside New York. Here he would be rehabilitated slowly into society. If he behaved and kept out of trouble for two years, he would be released with community service. If not, the lethal injection would still be waiting for him. _

"_Done."_

_For a moment, Pyro felt like the luckiest guy in the world. He just escaped death, again. Then he really thought about his sentence. Back the school to turn him into a teacher's pet?_

_It was going to be hell._

"John?"

Analysing the voice, John concluded that it was Rogue. She'd stayed behind.

"John? I was just, um…wondering if you were okay, I suppose."

He imagined her scanning his new physicalities: the scar, the thin frame, the bandage around his wounded eyes. John could feel her repulsion boring into him.

"If you'd like to show John back to his room, Marie?" came the Professor's voice.

_Marie?_

"Sure, Professor," gushed Rogue. "If that's okay with you, of course?"

John refused to answer.

"Right then, I'll just…help you up…"

John was astounded when he felt not the synthetic feel of gloves gripping his wrists, but skin. Smooth, warm skin, heavenly soft against his. And he didn't feel as though the life was being sucked out him either. As she cautiously helped him to stand, he realised what she'd done.

_She took that fucking Cure. No wonder she doesn't go by Rogue anymore…_

Rogue led him from the classroom and down the corridor. He very reluctantly held to her, letting her guide him. Once or twice he heard growls of disapproval as they passed people.

John despised it. He hated having to rely on anyone but himself with a burning, fiery passion. There'd only ever been one person to look out for him; himself. No one had ever cared before. And now it wasn't that he wanted help. He needed it. He needed it to survive, no matter how much he hated to admit it. With the loss of his eyes, John felt nothing less than his pride vanish with a painful flash.

"Here we are," he heard Rogue say. "I'll just show get you inside."

He listened as she pushed open the door. She led him to the bed and helped him sit.

"Right, I'll just go then, John."

_Okay._

"I'll see you later, I suppose."

_Whatever._

"John. John! Please say something."

_Take a hint and leave. Now._

"John! Answer me! John! Pyro?"

"Don't call me that," he snarled when he finally found his voice.

"What?"

"Pyro."

"Why? That's your name, isn't it? The one you insisted one being called." He hated hearing the irony laced into her Southern accent.

"It _was _my name. Not any more," he said through gritted teeth, feeling his chest tighten.

"But…I don't understand!" she exclaimed.

John was seething. "They took it away from me."

"How?" she said incredulously.

His silence was the only answer she needed.

They'd forcibly given him the Cure.


	4. Leave This Life Behind

E e e k! More reviews! Yay! Reviews make me smile, you know. They make me feel loved. So, to let you know that you're loved too, here's another chapter from yours truly.

I like this chapter. Please excuse the fact that most of it is a flashback… sort of. Suggested songs to listen to while reading this are **Savin' Me** by Nickelback, **What I've Done** by Linkin Park or **Let This Go** by Paramore. All excellent, angsty songs.

Please keep reading. There's a load more to come!

---

'**The Demon in Me'**

**By Sergeant Scarlett**

**Chapter Four: Leave That Life Behind**

…_Pyro struggled violently despite his wounds as four armed FBI agents hauled him from the hospital into an armoured security van. He could barely walk, even after the best medical care in the country tending to his legs. His eyesight remained unchanged. It was unlikely he'd ever be able to see again._

_He felt many strong hands strap his own tightly behind his back. He was then fitted into a secure straight jacket and finally tied with thick iron chains. Pyro yelled as loud as his voice would allow, and flailed his legs, hoping to catch one the agents' sorry faces. As he felt his foot connect hard with something, Pyro felt a heavy fist to his cheek. It was useless. The situation was completely out of his hands…_

… "_St.John Allerdyce –" _

"_Pyro," he snarled._

"_Do I look as if I care hotshot?" replied the agent with an air of sarcasm. "Ah, I forgot, you can't see, can you?"_

"_Excellent observation, Agent Saunders. Did you forget too that I'm a class four mutant, and I could smoke your sorry ass if I wanted to?" Two could play at that game, and sarcasm was a well-practised art for him. Pyro would have absolutely no qualms about sending this guy up in a particularly warm pillar of smoke, but his current predicament prevented that almost entirely. According to Saunders, he was deep underground at a top-secret FBI base in a room that was guarded by twenty men with heavy weaponry and First Class shots. Saunders had sat Pyro down on an uncomfortable hard-backed wooden chair and bound his hands with tight cord._

_Saunders snorted. "You talk big for a kid who's blind and immobile."_

"_I'm nineteen, bub."_

"_Oh, I'm sorry. Forgive me for thinking you were a thirteen year old with mental issues," he chuckled._

_Anger boiled inside. Following his new acute hearing, Pyro aimed and spat. By the sound of Agent Saunders' fuming reaction, he'd got him right in the eyes. Now it was Pyro's time to chuckle. It earned him a harsh slap._

"_Don't think your injuries won't keep me from beating you to a pulp," Saunders growled in a low voice. "You're here so we can drain all we want from you. After that, you'll be shipped off to a prison that only three people on this Earth know the location of. In your next life you'd better think hard before deciding on a career as a terrorist."_

_Pyro gulped unintentionally…_

… "_It's time. Bring him in."_

_The medic room door flew open. In came a struggling youth held by many large muscular men. _

"_Get the fuck off me, bitches!" he bellowed, straining his voice to the maximum. _

_Pyro heard a group of people speaking in hushed tones. Who were they?_

"_Over here," came one voice._

_He was guided into a chair and strapped in. Perhaps they'd decided against the Judge's sentence. Maybe he was being led to his death._

"_Are you sure you won't let me give it him?" Agent Saunders' voice was eager and sly._

"_No, Agent. This must be administered by trained medical staff."_

_There was a stony silence. _

"_What's going on?" Pyro sneered. "Can't stand the sight of me? Going to kill me, Saunders?"_

_He heard the agent's mirthless laugh. "Oh, trust me Allerdyce, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to see your neck strung up next to all the other pathetic excuses for human beings in the United States. But no, I've been overruled. My boss has opted for an alternative."_

_Just as Pyro was about give him a very snarky reply, namely about the fact he was't actually human, he felt his arm being wrenched away from him. On the inside of his elbow he was stabbed with what felt like a very thin blade._

_Immediately Pyro felt as though his entire body was on fire. It consumed him completely, and he rejoiced in the familiar sensation of his friend burning with him. But the flames became hotter. And hotter. Suddenly, when he couldn't take any more of the intense heat, Pyro felt his body explode, the heat escaping from his body in powerful bouts of energy. _

_He screamed. He screamed louder than he ever had before. He heard all those around him falling backwards and calling for help. _

_For one glorious moment, he could see them. All the pathetic humans cowering in the corner, afraid of what they'd done. Afraid of him and his gift. His sight vanished again, and was replaced by disappointment._

_Pyro embraced the last of the fire before he felt immense, torturing pain. The flames were ripped from him and then… the fire was gone._

_Cautiously, the agents and doctors pulled themselves to their feet._

"_Did it work?" came Saunders' irritated voice. _

"_Everyone out. We need to test it. Fire extinguishers and weapons at the ready, please."_

_Pyro heard the familiar sound of a lighter clicking open. Then he felt his hand burning. It was painful. But the fire had never hurt him before. He tried to manipulate it to send the assholes up in smoke. He couldn't._

"_Well done everyone. It worked!"_

"_Not so tough now, are you kid?" came Agent Saunders' taunting voice. "Can't hide behind your blasted mutation any more, can you PYRO?"_

_Pyro… that wasn't his name anymore. He was plain John once more. His mutation was gone. He was… a human. A snivelling, cowardly homo sapiens. _

_He screamed. "You bastards! You'll fucking pay for this! You fucking bastards! You're dead…"_

"I think that's quite enough for now."

John breathed heavily as he felt the Professor remove his hands from his head. Yes. That was more than enough. It was bad enough having to live through that ordeal once.

"Yes John, I quite agree with you. Not very pleasant." Xavier's voice was sympathetic.

"It doesn't take a genius to work that out, Doc," John snarled, rubbing his temples. "Jesus, you couldn't be a little gentler next time, could you?"

He heard the Professor laugh. It was patronising. "I could, only you're not letting me in. I understand that what has happened to you was dreadful, but I can't help you unless you let me."

John snorted. "Spare me the lecture. Can I go now?"

Xavier chuckled good-naturedly. "Yes John; you can go."

---

"Bobby, don't. Not now. Please."

Bobby neglected to stop what he was doing, which was trailing hungry kisses down Marie's unsuspecting neck.

"Bobby, stop, please. I'm not in the mood."

Her boyfriend sighed deeply as he slumped back into the sofa beside her. "Gees, Rogue. Quit being so morbid. This is difficult for me too, you know."

Now it was Marie's turn to sigh. "I know. But I've got so much on my mind lately. What with John coming back and -"

"Don't think this isn't affecting me too, Rogue," Bobby said pointedly, his eyes narrowing. "I'm just trying to get on with things as normal, like our relationship, which, might I add, doesn't seem to be going anywhere." He crossed his arms defensively. "Ever since John came back last week you've been acting all weird and avoiding me."

"Bobby, that's ridiculous. Of course I haven't been avoiding you."

"Don't give me that, Rogue."

She stared at him incredulously. "You're being unreasonable."

"And you're being evasive."

"Am not! You're being ridiculous. And don't say our relationship isn't going anywhere. I took the Cure so we could be together properly. Don't you appreciate that?" Her voice was hurtful.

Bobby got up, clearly agitated. "And look what good it's done us." He opened his mouth to speak again, but thought better of it. Instead, he left the recreation room, leaving Marie feeling very confused as to where this left them.

"Problems in the little igloo on the prairie?" came a rather amused voice from the door. Marie turned to see John carefully guiding himself into the room using a long cane.

"I notice your loss of eyesight has clearly not affected your complete lack of tact," Marie huffed, turning herself away from him.

She heard John chuckle. "Now, now Roguey, play nice."

"Can we get one thing straight?" she interrupted. "We're both in the same boat. We both took the Cure. If you can't be Pyro, then I can't be Rogue. It's Marie now."

John's face screwed up in fury, his facetious manner gone. "Nah-uh, we aren't in the same fucking boat, as you so bluntly put it. You voluntarily took that thing, and don't you ever forget it. You call me a traitor? I think you'll find you're one too."

"No, you misunderstood me," Marie cut in, desperate to redeem herself. "What I meant was that we've both left that life behind us. We need to move on, John."

"Try taking your own advice, _Rogue_."

Still in an angered mood, John staggered out, leaving Marie in his wake.

'Things still haven't changed…' she though sadly.


	5. Shut Up and Listen

Ah, sorry people, for I have sinned. I have not updated once a week like I promised myself I would. I shalt not sin again.

For waiting so patiently, here's an extra-long chapter (well, in my view anyway). It also has the beginnings of… nah, wouldn't want to spoil it now, would I? –Grins mischievously-

On with the show:)

---

'**The Demon in Me'**

**By Sergeant Scarlett**

**Chapter Five: Shut Up and Listen**

The voices were chuckling, giggling, sniggering. They muttered words and phrases they didn't dare to say any louder. _Cowards._

John struggled to find his way to the mansion's substantial library the next day during a free period. Well, free period meaning he couldn't stand sitting next to the Freeze-pop in Summers' class. It was easier this way – for the both of them.

He ran his hands along the familiar walls, attempting to navigate. He felt himself getting progressively more agitated as time passed.

The bell sounded. He'd spent a whole hour trying to find the library, but to no avail. John slammed his fist against the wall in frustration. It hurt. Just when he thought things couldn't possibly get any worse, he heard that irritating southern accent creep up from behind.

"John? Are you okay?" Her voice was tentative.

He ignored her. Perhaps she'd go away.

"John, your hand's bleeding." He heard her come closer.

"No need to worry about me, Marie," he said plainly, in a deliberate monotone, "I'm a big boy – I can take care of myself."

Marie snorted. "The thing is, I don't think you can."

He could practically feel her cool, tantalising breath on his neck. The sensation was crudely unfamiliar. John shivered.

"Just – just –"

He failed to come up with a better response. She'd caught him off guard. He could almost feel her impatience pulse through him while waiting for a dignified answer.

"Right. Never mind then. See you later." Her voice sounded almost hurt. John found he couldn't bear it. He heard her begin to walk away. His chance was slipping away.

Swallowing his pride, he shouted reluctantly after her.

"Could you take me to the library?" _Shit, she's already gone._ John mentally cursed.

"Pardon?"

She was still there. He spoke carefully.

"Could you take me to library?"

"Pardon?"

_Wow, this is humiliating_. She was going to make him beg.

Through gritted teeth, but with the sickliest sweet voice possible, he said, "Could you take me to library, _please_?"

Her sigh sounded satisfied. John soon found her warm fingers lace around his. She pulled him as gently as she could. Seconds later, she announced they'd arrived.

---

Marie was so far successfully managing to not look directly at him. It hurt too much emotionally to do so now. She mainly blamed herself. Perhaps if she hadn't run away from all her problems instead of facing them, Bobby and John wouldn't have fought at Alcatraz, they'd still be friends, and John could see. She remembered the last time she looked into his eyes. Just before he left. Just before he betrayed them.

With the patience of some twisted saint, Marie helped John make himself comfortable in a squashy chair by a large window overlooking the front gardens of the mansion. Even though she knew he wouldn't be able to appreciate the view, she felt he might gain some comfort from listening to the sounds of the birds and the fountain. She opened the window slightly.

Marie wasn't entirely sure what solace John could find in the library without his sight, but perhaps it was for spiritual healing, or something along those lines.

He sat in silence, unmoving, in some perfect harmony. Despite that, Marie could only describe him in one word.

Broken.

Gone was the John with a quick tongue, sharp cheek, a killer smile and the arrogance of a pig. All that was left was an empty shell, as though he was caught between life and death, in some world without colour or happiness.

She didn't want to disturb the strange tranquillity of the scene. Instead, she decided to make a quiet exit. He looked so peaceful that he could be mistaken as asleep. She turned and made to leave.

"Marie? Don't go."

It was a request. Not a command. Even so, Marie felt her blood begin to boil unintentionally.

"That's funny, _Johnny_, 'cause I'm pretty sure I said the same thing to you before you left."

She hadn't meant for it to sound so…like him.

John snorted. "I guess I deserve that."

"Understatement of the century," she retorted, folding her arms to stop herself from strangling him.

"I'm sensing a sizeable amount of hostility from you," he said, quite unable to keep all humour from his voice. It was almost teasing. Humiliating.

"You're doing well today: two correct statements in a row."

He sighed in melancholy. "Please Marie. You want answers. Stay and you can have them."

Half of her was desperate to get as far away from him as possible. The other side, the more impulsive side, was intrigued. She ached with longing for answers from him. Reluctantly, she sat opposite him.

"I'm listening."

"Good. Where do you want to start?"

"Why did you leave?"

Sure, it was blunt, but it was a question she'd wanted answering for a long time.

John inhaled deeply while pondering an answer. "Well, I suppose it was mainly due to a lack of appreciation. I felt as though my powers were a curse when I was a kid; I thought the mansion could be a new start for me. Don't get me wrong; we had some good times together, you, me and Bobby. It was when I started to become the third wheel in our friendship.

"Everything seemed to start going downhill. I'd always got into trouble at the mansion, sometimes for the stupidest things, but I went out of control. I wanted more. I wanted to able to use my powers regardless of rules and laws. I wanted to embrace them as every mutant should."

Marie listened intently.

"I just wished I could belong somewhere. And then Magneto showed up. He said something I'll never forget."

"What was it?"

John sniggered, as though ashamed. "He called me 'a god among insects'."

"And you believed that?" Marie huffed. She saw his muscles tense.

"Of course I did to begin with! I wanted a chance to use my powers freely. He inflated my ego to the point I thought I was better, much better than all of you _X-Men_."

He clearly didn't want to discuss the matter further.

"Okay, what about what went down at Alcatraz?"

"Didn't Bobby tell you?"

"No," Marie said slowly, regretfully, "he wouldn't talk about it. In the same sort of way he won't talk about you to me now."

She watched him snort with malice. "Here's me thinking the Iceman was made of stronger stuff."

"Hey! Your leaving hit him pretty hard." John was impossible. He always would be.

"Clearly not as hard as it hit you, then, I take it."

Marie blinked. Her silence proved he had a point. John continued, on a roll.

"The primary reason you didn't like me leaving was because you realised I meant just as much to Bobby as you did," he snapped.

"That's not true," she managed, her voice a soft whisper. Clearing her throat, she realised she still wanted answers. "So, what _did _happen at Alcatraz, apart from Bobby freezing your sorry ass?" She couldn't help it; her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"Uh, I think you just about summed it up, _Rogue._"

---

_Jesus, this girl could talk. I'd tell her to piss off, but something's telling me she's about the only thing at the moment keeping me from eating my own sanity. Help._

They sat there in silence after his last comment, which seemed to have hit home to the full extent. He predicted one more snarky comment would just about have her storm from the library in a mood the size of Katrina. But, he reminded himself tactfully, he couldn't keep his hopes up.

He listened to the sounds nothing between them. It was almost peaceful. Tranquil. Serene. Call it what you will.

John heard her rise from her seat. _That's it – she's actually going._ Only, seconds later, she sat back down. She had something in her hands. She was flicking through the pages of a book…?

"Once upon a time, in a land full of darkness and evil, lived a –"

_She's reading me… a story…?_

"Err, Marie, care to explain what you're doing?"

With a clipped edge to her voice, she replied, "What does it look like? Or rather, _sound _like, in your case. You happen to be in a library. A _library_, where _books _are kept. Last time I checked, there were no books with Braille. Now shut up and listen."

John found himself to be quite taken-aback. Well, 'stunned' was a more appropriate word.

"Once upon a time, in a land full of darkness and evil, lived a young prince. He lived in a castle atop a hill, overlooking his entire realm of evil. Now, this Realm of Darkness was on the border with another place, the Kingdom of Light, ruled by a wise professor."

"Is this actually going anywhere?" John cut in irritably.

He could almost feel her look of hatred pulsing through him. He fell silent.

"The young prince was under the command of a fearful emperor, a terrifying man of great power. He had taken the prince long ago from the Kingdom of Light, but not forcefully. The Emperor had promised the prince power. Eager for it, the prince had accepted."

_Feeling pleasantly relaxed. Her voice is rather soothing, in a twisted kind of way._

"The prince had left a lot of friends back in the Kingdom of Light. During a horrific battle between the forces of light and darkness, the prince and his old friend fought. His friend, a knight of the Kingdom of Light, won valiantly. Wounded and ashamed, the prince returned to the Realm of Darkness."

_I wonder what she's wearing. Has she done anything different with her hair since I last saw her?_

"Not long after, the prince was feeling regretful of all the awful things he had done for the Emperor. He decided to try to make amends. He left the Emperor and returned to the Kingdom of Light, was welcomed back by his friends, and became a warrior for the light, and they all lived happily ever after. The End."

John heard her snap the book shut dramatically.

"Funny," he said, breaking the silence, "that prince sounded a lot like someone I know. Can't seem to place it, though… You made that up, didn't you?"

"No, it's all true, albeit a few… _modifications_."

"Ri-ight. But, in case you haven't noticed, I haven't been _welcomed back by my friends_ or _lived happily ever after._" He sniggered. "And I don't think they're going to be coming my way any time soon."

_Ow, shit! That hurt!_

She'd slammed the book into his lap.

"You know what, _Johnny_? You're blind – in more ways that one."

And with that, she left.

---

**Reviews make me smile :)**


	6. Amends

Readers, forgive me of my sins.

My muse left me. It was tragic, really. Thank you so much for the reviews – I feel so special when I get them :) After this chapter, this story will be moving forward at a quicker pace. With these first few chapters, I really wanted to establish the situation. Hopefully my clever readers will be picking up on hints to the future plot. I'm so excited about this story! Thanks for sticking with me on this!

Any video-makers interested in making a trailer video for 'The Demon in Me'? Let me know!

An ideal song to listen to for the end of this chapter is the Jamelia version of 'Numb' by Linkin Park (from the Radio 1 Live Lounge) or 'My Skin' by Natalie Merchant, off her album Ophelia.

Read on! Don't forget that review:)

---

'**The Demon in Me'**

**By Sergeant Scarlett**

**Chapter Six: Amends**

John felt the emptiness of the library as Marie left. He tried to breathe, but felt his throat tighten uncomfortably. Beneath his bandage around his head, his eyes began to warm considerably. The beginnings of silent tears dampened his eyes. Some crept down his cheek. There was no pain anymore, not from his wounds or his eyes, not even the scar across his face.

The silence consumed him, and then released him to the sounds of nature from outside. As more tears fell gracefully down his face, he listened to the tranquillity of flowing, trickling water – the fountain; a voice singing to the wind – the birds; the calming, soothing sound of the breeze teasing the leaves – breathtaking.

John could just imagine it – the Sun's warming rays engulfing the campus, brightening the sky. _Since when did I become such a fucking romantic? _he snorted, though not wiping away the tears. There was no-one there to witness this moment of weakness. _Thank Jesus._

"I will _not _let this get to me. I will not."

He reached out for his cane and gripped it tightly.

"No more now. What's done is done. No more."

---

From the door, leaning interestedly on the frame, Marie watched intently as the tears rolled down John's cheek. He was fighting some inner battle with himself, and to Marie's constant surprise and pleasure, it looked as though he was winning.

_I think that's the first time I've ever seen St John Allerdyce cry._

Marie smiled in spite of herself.

---

"Hey John, you in here?"

It was later that day, soon after the Sun had set. Bobby Drake knocked patiently on his former best friend's door, his palms sweating uncomfortably. This was bound to be unpleasant.

Bobby had been angry with John since he took that first step off the jet. Their mutual respect had been slowly diminishing, but Bobby had never expected John would act like he did. _He just had to be on the winning side, he had to be in control. Look where it got him. He can barely walk, he can't see, he's got no friends to speak of. _Bobby sighed deeply as he waited for an answer from within the room. _I guess that's what happens when you turn terrorist, when you become a traitor. He got what he wanted – he only had to care about himself, and that's how it'll stay._

There was still no reply. Bobby gritted his teeth in defeat. Although, he wasn't the one who'd lost last month.

Bobby Drake had never craved power, only friendship from the young pyromaniac. He relived their fight every night in his dreams, feeling the ultimate power course though his body. The ice burned every fibre of his being as he felt himself become engulfed by the cold.

"_You're in way over your head Bobby," Pyro seethed, his face alight from the raging flames soaring from his fingertips, "maybe you should go back to school."_

_Bobby felt his chest tighten as he witnessed the malice in his friend's black, fiery eyes. He'd been kidding himself all along. John Allerdyce didn't need him anymore. He never did._

_That realisation sent shockwaves through Bobby's brain as the flames danced violently around him, wrapping his entire body in extreme heat. It was unbearable. The ice called to him – he didn't need the warmth of the fire any more. _

_As a triumphant smile pulled at the corner of John's cocky mouth, Bobby's entire form turned into solid ice. Feeling the new power, Bobby took Pyro's hands and extinguished the fire. _

_Bobby felt his heartstrings tug painfully as Pyro looked up in awe and fear. But no – the pyromaniac needed putting in his place. A firm head-but accomplished that task._

"_You never should've left…"_

Bobby couldn't help but feel responsible for John's fate. Would he have responded to reason? Would he have listened, and come home quietly? Releasing his breath slowly, Bobby felt a smile grace his lips. No. _I couldn't have changed him then. But, perhaps I can now. _

He rapped his knuckles on the door once more, his agitation clear. Still no answer. Bobby gave up. John evidently did not want to talk.

As Bobby turned to leave, he heard the creak of a door opening. Light flooded the empty corridor from the open windows in the room.

"I guess you don't know how difficult it is to find and unlock a door when blind?" John smirked as he leant casually against the door. "Come on in, Iceman; it's been a while."

---

Bobby had predicted a long, awkward silence as he stepped into John's room, but it seemed as though John was eager to talk.

"So, what brings you to this neck of the woods?" he said as he handed Bobby a drink. "Finally decided you can bear to sit in the same room as a traitor?" It was a joke, but Bobby couldn't help but feel disappointed. He kept his eyes on his drink, not being able to look at John's bandaged face. He forced a laugh.

"Yeah, I thought I'd get off my high horse. But in all seriousness John, why are you here?" He looked up to view John's reaction, and saw that his expression had softened. "Why'd you come back?"

John chucked hollowly. "It wasn't exactly my choice, believe it or not. Put it this way; it was either here or six feet under. I don't know about you, but I didn't fancy the latter."

Bobby felt his eyes widen. _They were going to kill him?_

"All I've got to do is be a good little boy scout for two years and I'm a free man. If not, well, I think that's self-explanatory, don't you?" A ghostly smile crossed his lips. "So," he continued, taking a sip of his drink, "what's new in your life?"

"Not much," Bobby shrugged.

"Still the human fire extinguisher…" John laughed half-heartedly, as he became lost in a trail of thought.

"And you're still the hot-head," Bobby countered playfully. He was about to speak again when he regarded a change in his friend's presence. He watched as John gritted his teeth harshly. "John?"

"Not any more."

_What? _Bobby was confused. "I don't understand…"

"Doesn't take a rocket scientist to work it out, Iceman," seethed John through his gritted teeth.

Bobby still couldn't work out what John meant.

"Hand me my lighter." It wasn't a command; it was a request. Bobby fumbled around through John's drawer until he found the Zippo. He placed it in John's outstretched hand. He flicked it open carelessly and brought forth a tiny, dancing flame. Cautiously, John waved a hand over it and immediately drew it back, holding it up for Bobby to see.

There was a fresh wound; a mark from where the fire had burned his flesh.

_The Cure. They gave him the Cure. He's not a mutant anymore; he's human now._

Bobby looked from John's burned hand to his bandaged eyes and felt a rush of pity flood through him.

_This is all my fault! I caused this. I left him at Alcatraz to die, and he's suffered a fate worse than death. Who knows how they treated him in prison? John was such a proud mutant, and they took that from him. If only I'd helped him! If only I'd persuaded him to stay…_

"Yeah, so now you know," came John's rough voice from no-where.

"John, I'm so sorry," Bobby managed, his words soft. "If there's anything I can do, just say the word."

"Well, as you mentioned it, there is one thing…"

"Anything!" exclaimed Bobby, eager to make amends. "Name it!"

A familiar smile tugged at John's mouth. "I want my roommate back. Bit difficult here by myself, as you can probably imagine."

Bobby found himself grinning. "Of course. You'll need to behave, though. I'm not taking any of your smart-ass comments this time."

"Take them or leave them, my friend. It's all one package," John smirked mischievously. "Would you have me any different?"

"No," he replied, shaking his head, "no I wouldn't."

John took a swig from his drink and pursed his lips. "So, how're things; school, X-Men, parents, friends… girlfriend?" He leant back to listen.

"School's going great, actually. Without you I'm finally getting somewhere!" he joked. "The X-Men have been inactive really since Alcatraz. We're basically gathering more students; there seem to be more children with mutant capabilities out there than ever." He paused. "My parents are slowly becoming more understanding. Ronnie still won't talk to me though.

"Everyone here is kind of the same. There's Warren too, or Angel; we're good friends. Kitty went out with him last week, believe it or not."

"And Marie?" John pressed carefully.

"Honestly? Not that good. Things haven't been right since she got the Cure. Rogue's not happy, and I'm sure she's using your return as an excuse to drive a rift between us." Bobby sighed, and ran a hand over his tired face. "I don't know what to do, John."

"Hey, you're asking me for help with a girl? Bad move."

"I'm out of options."

"So I'm a last resort now?" exclaimed John in mock annoyance. "Well, I see you're happy to have me back." Bobby could just about see a raised eyebrow above John's bandage. "In all seriousness, though, there's no point in asking me."

"I don't know, John; I value your opinion," Bobby claimed sincerely.

John didn't answer straight away. "I'll sleep on it, and let you know what the Love Doctor prescribes. How's that for a smart-ass comment?"

"You're top of the league, as per usual, John," grinned Bobby.

"I always will be, Iceman. Always will be."

---

Still stunned from what she'd witnessed earlier that day, Marie was struggling to get to sleep. She didn't used to suffer from insomnia, but ever since she took the Cure she seemed to be more prone to it than usual. Perhaps it was some warped side effect, but Marie wasn't so sure. Even more so, Marie had struggled to sleep since John came back.

Her faith in human kind (and indeed mutant kind) had been restored that day. She saw a change in John Allerdyce that she never thought possible. _Although, _Marie thought sadly, _it's just a shame he had to lose his sight for it to happen. _It had been a life ambition of hers – to witness a miracle. _Perhaps this is it. _

Marie had to admit that, although dubious at first, she was glad to have John back. Once he got some of his old self back, her life at the mansion would lighten up considerably. Her thoughts drifted from John to Bobby. _What am I going to do about him? I don't… feel anything for him anymore. _Was it John's return that sparked this? _No, this has been happening since Bobby realised there was nothing special about me after all. _

She felt the tears warm her eyes. Ashamed, Marie wiped them away furiously.

She never thought she'd miss her ability, but she did. It was a part of her, part of her genetic make-up. It was no wonder Marie felt as though a part of her had been ripped out. At first it felt good – she could touch Bobby without killing him, she could kiss him… Then she realised she didn't feel anything, even when she could touch.

She felt so… numb.

This wasn't her skin. This wasn't her.

_I was born mutant. I'm human now. It's so… unnatural._

The worst part? No-one knew what Marie D'Ancanto was going through. No-one else she knew had willingly taken the Cure. There was John, of course, but as he reminded her, they were not in the same situation.

Her tears were staining her pillow.

The sheer darkness of her room was comforting, yet abusive at the same time. Marie sobbed hard into her pillow, the tears choking her. Usually, the tears would subside after a while, but not this time. Marie felt the full force of her decision to destroy her ability – and it hurt.

It hurt more than it ought to. A searing pain shot through her legs, her torso, her arms, and finally through her head. Marie gasped, clutching her head, begging the pain to disappear.

It got worse.

Her body was on fire. It burned agonizingly.

She let out a heart-wrenching, ear-splitting scream, and all faded to black.

_To be continued…_

---

**Reviews make me smile :)**


	7. Understanding

Wow. I have more reviews for this story than I've ever had for any other story before. Thanks, guys! Am speechless )

Okay, I think I've left you hanging for long enough. My creative side has returned within the last few days, and I think I can write a decent enough chapter. For those reading earlier chapters, I apologise – my page breaks have disappeared…fabulous…

Anyone interested in making a video trailer for this story? Let me know!

'**THE DEMON IN ME'**

**BY SERGEANT SCARLETT**

**CHAPTER SEVEN: 'Understanding'**

It was the middle of what had been a quiet, uneventful, night. Students and teachers alike were sleeping soundly in their beds when they heard the screams. The shrill cries pierced the silence like a sharp knife cutting through steel. It wasn't just one scream; they continued, and refused to cease, filling mansion with terror and fear, crashing through the hallways and corridors like stormy waves. Younger students leapt out of bed in fright and ran to comfort each other.

John had fallen asleep in Bobby's room. They both were woken harshly by the sounds of screaming. Bobby knew John was thinking the same thing.

_Rogue._

Throwing the covers off themselves in a maddened frenzy, they left the room. Bobby assisted John in walking down the many staircases the mansion held, following the screams. The hairs on the back of John's neck stood up chillingly as they moved. The sound was more than unpleasant; almost torturous. He felt his way by running his hands along the staircase banisters. More than once John found himself trip, but he didn't care. All that mattered was helping Marie.

Other students were gathering outside Rogue's room. Bobby caught sight of Pete conversing with Angel, and Kitty and Jubilee were comforting younger students who had managed to sneak out of their rooms.

"Pete, what's going on?" asked Bobby, his voice shaken and worried. "Is Rogue okay?" He had trouble making himself heard over the screams.

"We don't know. Storm's in there at the moment. Mr Summers has gone to get the Professor," Colossus answered with a downcast gaze. Warren looked apprehensive, almost too stunned to speak.

John felt himself becoming agitated. He couldn't just stand and listen to Marie screaming in pain any longer. "Isn't there something we can do? How about we go and fetch Logan, or Dr McCoy? We have to do something!" His hands were balled into fists by this point, and behind his bandage, his eyes were bulging. "Someone has to help her!" He felt Bobby's hands on his shoulders, attempting to comfort him. He shook them off. "Don't you understand, Iceman? This is Marie we're talking about!"



"Calm yourself, Mr Allerdyce," came the Professor's soothing, authoritative voice. Professor Xavier wheeled himself into Rogue's room. The screaming soon ceased. Minutes later, Wolverine pushed through the eager crowd of students.

"Get out of the way!" he growled as he passed John and Bobby. John felt his blood boil. Who did he think he was?

"Relax, John; she'll be okay," Warren spoke softly, as Scott Summers and Storm emerged from Rogue's room. Storm whispered something to Scott, who left swiftly, before addressing the students.

"We are taking Miss D'Ancanto to the medical bay. You may rest assured that she will be taken care of there. Now, it is three o'clock in the morning. Would you all return to your beds. I don't want have to start handing out detentions." That was warning enough for the students, who began to disperse, still talking in hushed tones about what could've happened.

Bobby and John, along with Pete, Warren, Kitty and Jubilee, assembled in Bobby's room. Clearly none of them were in the mood for sleeping. Kitty and Jubilee huddled together on Bobby's bed, almost tearful.

"I don't know what could've happened to make her scream like that..." Jubilee commented slowly, "waking up to hear that… I thought someone had died!"

Warren added pensively, "Let's be grateful no-one has. Although, I must admit it is odd. Bobby, has Rogue suffered anything like this before?

"She did suffer from nightmares when she first came here," he admitted, his head between his hands, "but they stopped after a couple of days."

"Any medical conditions?" cut in Colossus.

John found himself snorting. He felt the others' gazes fall upon him, almost urging him to explain. He couldn't help lacing his voice with sarcasm. "It doesn't take a genius to work it out. Marie used to in possession of what is known as the 'X-Gene', something which you all have. Not so very long ago, Marie took a so-called 'Cure', which suppressed this gene. Any light-bulbs flashing?"

"So you're saying that the Cure is affecting Marie?" Kitty said carefully.

"That's exactly what I'm saying, Pussy Cat," John finished with a sneer.

Bobby shook his head. "No, I don't think so. If this was true, there'd be reports of other cured mutants having these side effects. Rogue wasn't the first mutant to take the Cure. Seriously, that Cure was a good thing, Rogue got what she wanted when she took it. It benefits us all."

"And I suppose it benefited me, being strapped down and given it forcibly?" John spat through seething teeth. "You don't know shit about this Cure, Iceman. You're in way over your head." John couldn't help letting that last comment out. Bobby's silence proved that he'd touched a nerve. The others were silent, worried about what might happen next. Kitty gave a little gasp as John stood up and grabbed his cane.

"All of you are," John muttered as he left the room.



Beep. Beep. Beep. The sound was eerie, though necessary to measure her heartbeat. Professor Xavier hovered his hands over Rogue's unconscious form in the med bay. Her cries of pain had finally subsided, but only through the Professor's telepathic powers. Rogue appeared peaceful, but the Professor was worried; if the only way to stop her pain was to keep her unconscious, then there was definitely a problem.

He concentrated on lessening the pain, which proved difficult considering he couldn't determine where it was coming from. He managed to provide a small amount of pain relief, enough to keep her from tossing and turning anyway. Keeping her calm was the most important issue at hand right now. Unfortunately, there was only so much he could do; the Professor would have to wait until someone with greater expertise in this field arrived.

He did not have to wait long. Dr Hank McCoy was greeted at the front of the school a mere two hours later by Storm, who showed him hastily inside. Logan had gone for a few more hours sleep, after promising he would keep watch over Rogue later.

"Thank you for coming at so short notice, Hank," Storm said with a meek smile, "we really didn't know who else to call." They were progressing down towards the medical bay.

"Think nothing of it, Ororo. I was very concerned when you called. How is Marie doing?"

"You'll see for yourself in a moment. The Professor's in there now keeping her asleep. We thought it best."

Hank nodded. "I agree. Ah; here we are."

Storm watched Hank's expression cloud with worry as he observed the unconscious girl. He set his briefcase aside and began to briefly examine her.

"I've done all I can, Hank," Professor Xavier said gravely. "I'm just sorry I couldn't have been more help." He wheeled his chair back, almost ashamed.

"Thank you, Charles; I'll take it from here." Dr McCoy proceeded to examine Rogue's sleeping form, pausing often to consult notes and the machines at her side. Storm and the Professor watched vigilantly as he worked.

"What I'd give to have Jean back here to help…" Hank murmured as he took a vial of Rogue's blood. "She had such a bright future, the poor girl."

Storm reached for a tissue. "We all miss her dearly."

Hank continued to work for sometime, until the Professor and Storm heard him sigh deeply. He looked up to face them.

"Don't worry, it's not as bad as I feared," he said slowly, "but there are some things you need to know. Firstly, it Marie D'Ancanto took the Cure about a month ago, correct?" Storm nodded. "This 'Cure' was designed to suppress the mutant X-gene. As you know, it was developed from Jimmy's mutation, which causes anyone who goes near him to be stripped of their abilities. However, as soon as a mutant is far enough away from him, their powers return. I think that is what has happened in Rogue's case."

"I don't understand, Hank," said Storm, confused. "What does it mean?"



"It means, Ororo, that this Cure is not permanent. It means that anyone who has taken this Cure will regain their powers eventually. In Rogue's case, around twenty-eight days later. I'll have to investigate this – it could mean that others are at risk too." Hank began rapidly packing away his things into his suitcase.

"Where are you going?" a startled Storm asked, her eyes wide.

"I need to find the extent of the problem. Keep Rogue asleep for the rest of the day, wake her up gently later. If she is in any pain, don't give her anything for it – I fear it may aggravate the Cure. Her powers will return, Charles." Hank donned his coat and made for the door. "Make sure you tell her before she finds out."

It was still early morning for most people's standards, and many of the students had indeed gone back to bed. John found he couldn't. Instead, he blindly wandered the corridors of Xavier's mansion, listening to the tranquil sounds of the morning.

Although he cursed himself profoundly for admitting it, John was getting increasingly more worried for Marie. He couldn't quite figure out why he was so distressed about her being taken into the medical bay, without a word from Storm or Summers about what was wrong with her. A nagging voice at the corner of his mind told him;

_Because she's the only one who accepted you back; the only one who told you exactly what she thought; because you had an argument yesterday… Admit it – you care for her._

"Piss off." He couldn't quite work out why he was talking to himself either.

_When are you going to admit that you care for someone other than yourself for a change?_

"Try, never."

_Accept it now. Go to her, before the Iceman does, before they make up after their argument. Take the opportunity and embrace it. _

"Would you kindly fuck off before I personally remove your mouth?"

_I'd like to see you try. Willing to lose your speech as well as your eyesight? I am part of you. Now, do as I say._

"Who the hell are you? Am I going mad?"

_You'll wish you were insane soon enough. Be a good little fire starter, and do as I say. _

"Why should I? You're just a part of my subconscious!"

_Because I am more powerful than you can imagine, because I can do things that would make you crawl under your comforter and cry for your mommy. I've seen you at your best, at the top of your game Pyro, at Alcatraz, and I've seen you at the lowest point in your miserable little life. Now, you be a good little solider, and do exactly as I say…_



John felt his blood run cold. He eagerly wanted this voice to simply be part of his overactive imagination. He carried on walking, but bumped heavily into a nearby wall.

"Fuck," he muttered, nursing his head. Enraged, he removed his bandage and threw it. He hoped, no, wished for his sight to return. He opened his eyes…

He was at a window, viewing what had to be the most spectacular sight in all his life. The Sun was resting gently on the city of New York, creating elegant beams of orange light which streamed across the grounds of the mansion…

Well, that's what he wanted to see. Instead, John saw nothing, and endless stretch of darkness.

"Fuck this."

The cane and the blindfold lay forgotten on the ground.

Reviews make me smile, readers! )


	8. Renewal

I'm not even going to try and apologise. I'll just leave you with the new chapter, and a present for being so patient. Just follow the link, and if it doesn't work, it's in my profile. Just remove all the spaces.

w .w . w. y o u t u b e . c o m /watch?v8b2u1QbSovk 

* * *

'**THE DEMON IN ME'**

**BY SERGEANT SCARLETT**

**CHAPTER EIGHT: 'RENEWAL'**

* * *

Lessons the next day were a subdued affair. Storm, Scott and Logan were in and out all day, checking up on news of Rogue's condition, but as the Professor gently reminded them, he could always contact them through their thoughts if he had anything to report. It wasn't only the teachers on edge; Bobby refused to talk to anyone, firmly believing that what happened to Rogue was his fault; how that could be possible puzzled many of the other students. Kitty was sending round a cup for donations for flowers and a Get Well card. Warren passed the time by brooding. John? He refused to take this lying down.

"John, for the last time, _no,_" repeated Scott, for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. His lesson had been disturbed yet again, and was beginning to get agitated. Couldn't the boy just be shocked into silence like the others?

Scott had been severally mistaken when he thought a blind John Allerdyce was a well behaved John Allerdyce. In fact, Scott had decided that this John was probably worse than ever in terms of behaviour, and use of language. While listening to his response, Scott realised that John's cynical, stubborn nature far surpassed that of a mere nineteen-year-old.

"For Christ's sake, Mr Summers," John seethed through clenched teeth, "do I have to spell out in multi-coloured alphabet shapes for you? Marie is my _friend_. I'm asking you with as much sugar coating as I can bear for you to just let me pop down to the med bay to see her. _Please_." The last word was added with clear resentment.

Scott sighed inwardly, much like the rest of the class.

"I'm afraid I can't allow that, John. Let's knock that notion on the head once and for all, and get back to our lesson. I'm sure your fellow students don't want any more distractions today." Scott turned back to the board and continued writing out the assignment for homework.

It all seemed too much for John. With as much force as he could muster, John swept the books and folders from his desk, hurling them in Scott's unsuspecting direction. One book hit Scott squarely on his back. The class held its breath while waiting for their teacher's response.

John stood up slowly, carefully, and faced what he hoped was Scott Summers' infuriated scowl. The thin, wiry frame of John Allerdyce with a bandage across his eyes and a cane for support was hardly 

threatening, but something told Scott as he observed the boy that just giving him a detention wouldn't suffice. This would have to handled delicately.

"John," began Scott in a forcibly calm voice, "sit down."

"You just don't get it, do you? None of you do!" John's tone was livid. "Marie is in danger. That Cure isn't safe. You need treat her before it kills her, for fuck's sake! Why does no-one listen to me? Oh yeah," he added as an afterthought, "because John Allerdyce is an insane, blind ex-terrorist who can't be trusted."

At this, John lifted his arm, pointing at directly at Scott. Cyclops felt his eyes widen and he panicked, moving instinctively backwards. It seemed all too familiar. The next second, a wild ball of fire would be shot from John's palm, which would engulf the entire classroom in red hot flames. Scott could hear the screaming, he could smell the smoke... he felt his own flesh burning...

John brought his hand to his bandage and tore it off, revealing his eyes for the first time since returning to the mansion. All jaws in the classroom hung open as the students gazed into the pale blue, lifeless eyes of the former pyrokinetic. The deep gnash which crossed diagonally across his worn face fell over one eye, which, to Scott, showed clear evidence of John's haunted recent past. The wounds around his eyes were horrific, showing indefinite disfigurement. Scott had to look away.

"I may be blind, Summers, but I can see that she is in danger."

Scott felt himself crumble in defeat. He couldn't deny that John had a point. "John, if you sit down now, I will speak to the Professor about your concerns." Just has Scott thought he'd got through to the boy, he felt an uncomfortable chill run through his body as he looked into John's eyes.

The dullness had been replaced by something Scott had never seen before. John's eyes were blazing, not just with rage. His once blue eyes were dancing with angry flames. And it wasn't only his eyes that had changed. Scott observed in horror as John's entire body stood straight and poised, lithe and agile like a tiger. His hair seemed to move to its own accord from being unkempt to the style he'd had three weeks ago, at Alcatraz. A manic grin pulled at the corner of John's mouth. Scott moved back again, this time stumbling. The class looked on in horror as John moved with complete ease towards their teacher, his steps confident.

"It's Pyro, Summers, _Pyro_. Care to try telling _Pyro_ what to do?" His voice was calm and self-assured, but no-one present could mistake the hidden malice; the taunting.

"Now, John, just listen – "

Scott's attempt to reason with John was cut off by a cruel, acidic laugh. His eyes glinted roguishly.

"I don't think so." He kept perfectly still for a few moments, just staring at Scott straight in the eye, which unnerved the teacher more than he'd like to admit. Not knowing what else to do, Cyclops raised his hand to the protective visor over his eyes, preparing to strike John if needs be.

John startled everyone by suddenly grabbing a young female student by the arm and yanking her harshly to her feet. He held her arms tightly behind her back with one hand, while the other was at her throat. The girl whimpered, her eyes fearfully begging Scott to do something.

"Hush there now, doll," John whispered seductively into the girl's hair. "Nothing's going to happen to you, provided Cyclops does as he's told."

From across the room, Scott gulped. He needed help.

* * *

Logan was sat by Rogue's side in the medical bay, keeping a close eye on her sleeping form, when the doors slid open, revealing Professor Xavier, and a very haughty looking Dr Hank McCoy. Logan was on his feet immediately.

"What is it?" he demanded. "What's wrong?"

The Professor stepped in. "Calm yourself, Logan. Hank's here with some news for us. There's no need to panic."

"On the contrary, Charles," Hank said gravely, "there's every need to panic at this stage." Logan and Xavier froze with dread, not wanting the doctor to continue.

"I've been in contact with some old colleagues of mine at Oxford University. A sample of the Cure was sent there before it was even publicised. They've been examining it ever since, and I finally have the results."

He produced a series of papers from his briefcase and handed them to Xavier, who began studying them with caution. Logan waited apprehensively. Within moments, an uncertain shadow passed across the Professor's face.

"What does this mean, Hank?" Charles asked softly.

The blue-furred mutant cast a concerned glance at Rogue's unconscious body before answering. "It seems that while the sample of Jimmy's X-Gene was being examined and processed in the lab at Alcatraz, it... mutated."

"Mutated?" cut in Logan. "How?"

Hank hung his head sadly. "It came into contact with a chemical, one we're uncertain of yet, but we do know that for those who have taken the Cure, in some cases, will suffer from some... side effects."

Logan and Xavier were still confused, so Hank elaborated.

"It's a virus."

The tension in the room could have been cut with a knife. The only sound was the gentle beeping from Rogue's heart monitor.

Hank continued, his voice thick with emotion. "I've received news of some of the first cases. The initial group of people who took the Cure have experienced a return of their powers. It happened much like it did the first time, when they developed them under an emotional trauma. Not everyone 

has been infected by the Virus. I know of only ten per cent of the first testing group who are currently suffering."

"Ten per cent? That's still a lot of lives on the line, Hank!" Logan exclaimed. "How do we know who's been infected?"

"Those who took the batch which was contaminated, that's fifteen per cent of the total which was produced," said Xavier, while reading from the notes. "How serious is this, exactly?"

The doctor's eyes closed before answering. "How the Virus affects a mutant depends on his or her mutation. Class one and two mutants, as far as we can tell, suffer from mild headaches, fainting, and a slight enhancement of their powers."

"Rogue's Class Three," said Logan quietly. "What about her?"

"Class Three and Four mutants will experience a significant enhancement in their powers. Depending on the power, it could be fatal. I know of one man in Seattle who was a Class Four telepath. He's currently suffering from hearing is own thoughts repeated and magnified to such a loud volume that his brain is shutting down. There's nothing we can do for him."

Logan shook his head furiously. "No... No!" He was immediately at Rogue's side. "What's it going to do to her, Professor? What if it's already happening?"

"Calm down, Logan."

"The hell I'll calm down!" He leaned to reach from Rogue's hand, but was stopped by Xavier.

"Logan, you of all people know the dangers of Rogue's mutation," he explained sadly, "my guess is at the moment her mutation is backfiring on her. She's draining herself of her own life-force."

"What can we do?" interrupted the Wolverine sharply. "How long will this thing last?"

Silence.

Logan narrowed his gaze, looking angrily at Hank, his hands balled into fists. "You don't know, do you?" he growled.

Xavier was about to speak, when he suddenly went very still, clearly listening in on someone's thoughts. Hank observed the sudden change.

"What's wrong?"

The Professor looked worried, his face etched with concern. "Logan, you and I need to visit Scott's classroom." He was moving towards to door, with the others following him.

"Charles, what's happened?" asked Hank, alarmed.

Xavier looked anxious. "We may have another affected by the Virus."

* * *

"Right, everyone outside!" Scott shouted, trying in vain to keep his voice calm. Pyro stood in the centre of the room, his eyes still blazing, and his grip around the young girl stronger than ever. The rest of the class made to get up and move towards the exit.

Pyro chuckled. "Everyone, stay where you are. You don't want your classmate turning to ash, do you?"

No sooner had he finished his sentence, the door was hurtled open by a livid Logan, his metal claws glinting, ready to be used if necessary. Hank and the Professor followed behind, both looking incredibly disturbed.

"Come on in," Pyro grinned, "the more the merrier." He turned to face the newcomers. "Now, this is what happens when I don't get what I want. Do you want to see firsthand what I'll do when I'm really pissed off?"

The whole room held its breath, but instead of Pyro harming the girl, he pushed her away from him and clutched his head with his hands, screaming as loud as his lungs would allow. Those present covered their ears as Pyro dropped to the ground, writhing in pain.

"Leave me alone!" he bellowed. "GET OUT MY HEAD!"

Suddenly, the ear-piercing shrieking stopped, and Pyro slowly got to his feet, his expression dazed and confused. Looking at around, he shook his head in disbelief. He glanced over to the Professor, suddenly realising he could see again.

"What the..." and he collapsed in a heap on the floor.

**Reviews make me smile Don't forget to watch the video!**


	9. Comotose

A/N : So it's over a year since I last updated. Exams are over, and one long summer is ahead before I start university in September. This chapter is for all those who are waiting faithfully for an update. I hereby proclaim you the best readers and reviewers EVER (hands over a huge jar of cookies). Please, take as many as you like, sit back, and enjoy my latest instalment!

**THE DEMON IN ME**

**IX. COMOTOSE**

John was dreaming.

At least, he thought he was. There was no way that his parents, Bobby, Professor Xavier and Rogue would all be in the same room at the same time. Besides, no-one should be in there anyway, he thought as he gazed around the room. The walls and furniture were engulfed in flames, slowly being incinerated. The five people with him stood still, unaware of the fire which danced around them. John was frightened. The room could collapse at any minute, killing them all. He opened his mouth to shout, only to find no sound came out. He had to save them; the fire was getting worse –

He looked down at his hands. Hot, luminous flames were emitting from his fingertips, rushing forcefully around the room. John was fuelling this fire and he couldn't stop. He was going to kill Rogue, Bobby and Xavier, and murder his parents... all over again. He watched in horror as he shot flames towards them, sending each one back into the walls. Rogue's eyes were wide and fearful. He didn't want to hurt her, but he couldn't control the fire burning in his palms. The blazing flames blasted from his hands straight towards her –

John woke screaming. Sweat trickled down his face. He tried to get up, but found he was strapped down. He tried to force his way up, but whatever was holding him was too strong. An unpleasant sense of nostalgia washed over him: it was exactly like the last time. What had he done now?

"Try not to move, John. Just calm down for a moment."

John stopped wriggling and lay still. He opened his eyes to find the source of the voice. After a moment, he saw Professor Xavier across the room –

John's heart began racing. He could see. His sight had finally been restored. Tears clouded his vision. Emotion choking him slightly, John began to speak.

"Professor, what happened? I can't remember anything. Why am I strapped to this table? How come I can see – "

"Patience, John. Too many questions at once!" Xavier's eyes sparkled in amusement. "What is the last thing you remember?"

John struggled to think. It was as though his mind was blank. Slowly, blurry images of a classroom began appearing. "Mr Summers' class. I wanted to go and see Rogue, and he wouldn't let me. When was that?"

"Three days ago," Xavier replied. "John, you took another student hostage and threatened to kill her if Scott didn't let you see Rogue."

John stared at the Professor blankly. "I did _what_? I don't remember any of this!"

"You collapsed shortly afterwards." Xavier paused, his expression grave, as though thinking how to continue. "John, I need to tell you something. It's not good news."

John felt his heartbeat speed up rapidly again. "Is this about Rogue?" he stammered. "Is she okay? Can I see her?"

"It is partly to do with Rogue, yes. All I ask is that you listen and let me speak. This may be difficult for you to understand.

"Some time ago now, both you and Miss D'Ancanto were injected with the Cure for mutations. What no-one knew back then was that a particular batch of the Cure mutated. All mutants who received an injection from this batch are currently suffering from differing side effects. We know of four class four mutants and one class three mutant who have already passed away due to this."

Xavier stopped to allow John to take this in. The former class four mutant's expression was empty and unreadable, yet the Professor didn't have to be a telepath to know what was going on in his mind.

"John, the Cure is not permanent. Your powers will return sooner or later. Rogue's powers have already manifested, and due to the infection, she is currently experiencing some particularly nasty side effects. If it weren't for my suppressing them, she would be in considerable pain right now. Keeping her like this prevents her conditions from worsening. Do you understand?"

The Professor watched John nod slowly in acceptance. "We don't know how or if the virus will affect you as of yet, but I assume what happened three days ago will be some side effect of it. I'd like to keep you down here for closer examination, and to ensure no harm comes to any of the other students."

"Whatever it takes, Professor," murmured John lifelessly. He was about to continue when a door swept open somewhere, and Dr McCoy strode purposefully into the lab, clipboard in hand.

"Good evening Charles. Mr Allerdyce, glad to see you're awake. How're you feeling?" Hank came into John's view and began untying the restraints which held him down. John carefully sat up, nursing where his wrists had been bound. "I'm sorry about that John, but it was a necessity, understand?"

John blanched. "Um, yeah, but I'm sort of wondering why you're both being so freaking friendly."

Hank sighed in exasperation. "John, what Professor Xavier has just told you is very serious. We currently have no idea whether or not you have become infected, yet with what happened the other day, we're beginning to assume this may be the case. I want to keep you here for further analysis, and this way, if anything bad does happen, we can contain you here."

Dr McCoy watched the distant John gaze around the lab. "So this will be my home for the next few days... weeks?"

"I'm sorry, John," Hank apologised sympathetically. "Your powers will return soon enough, and if you are infected, we need to make sure no harm comes to the students."

"Sure, doc; no problem."

"Would you like to see Rogue?" asked Hank. "I can take you to her." Wordlessly, John was on his feet immediately. "This way, please."

Using his telepathy, Xavier contacted Hank. _"I haven't told him the finer points of Rogue's condition. Make sure you break it to him gently." _Understanding, Hank nodded, and led John from the lab.

John nearly felt his breathing stop as he encountered Rogue unconscious in the lab next door. It was the first time he'd seen her with his own eyes since he left to join Magneto at Alkali Lake. Though she appeared peaceful, just seeing her, as though dead, shocked him more than he had initially thought. John sank to his knees and stared vacantly at her stationary form, laid out on a make shift bed. Still dressed in her night gown, Rogue's dark hair fanned out behind her. John fought the urge to touch her. Something was wrong: he knew it.

Hank moved behind him. "John, we think Rogue is dying." His voice was no more than a whisper. John didn't move – he simply stared at her. "The infection is causing Rogue to drain herself of her own life force. We're doing everything we can, but you need to prepare yourself for the worst."

John struggled to take it all. It was such a cruel twist of fate: she didn't deserve this. All she wanted was to be normal, to fit in. He'd condemned her for it, taunted her, made her life more difficult than it already was. A thought crossed his mind. "Does Bobby know?" Hank shook his head.

"We've told the students we're keeping her here for observation, but we have yet to tell them why. Bobby doesn't know."

"Could I have a minute?" John's voice was soft and controlled.

Hank nodded. "Of course. I'll just be outside." The door shut as John took the chair at Rogue's bedside. Again, John resisted the temptation to reach out and take her hand, or stroke her face. She couldn't be dying – he'd only just found her again! John had never felt so protective of anyone but her. To lose her would hurt beyond anything he had ever suffered, physically or mentally. Not even the loss of his sight, or even his beloved powers would compare to losing her. She brought out the best him, she always had.

John remembered when she first arrived at the mansion. Once she'd settled after her ordeal on the Statue of Liberty, Rogue, Bobby and John became fast friends. Despite the obvious attraction between her and Bobby, for a good year the three remained inseparable. John lightened up around Rogue; his stubborn, cocky attitude transformed into frequent teasing and playfulness.

Not long before Stryker's attack on the mansion, Piotr had cornered John, observing that he had a crush on Rogue. The night previously, he had caught John sneaking out of Rogue's room at five in the morning. John's excuse had been that they'd been talking and lost track the time, their heart-to-heart lasting most of the night. John's reaction had been defensive: it was absurd that he should have feelings for one of his best friends. Absurd...

Although, it wasn't appearing so absurd now. Originally, when he first discovered that he felt more than friendship for Rogue, John told himself it was simply because he'd never been close to a female before, save his mother.

Throwing aside reason, John followed his instinct and grasped Rogue's hand between his own. He didn't care if she sucked the life from him – just to feel her skin would be enough to reassure him, and hopefully, she'd realise she wasn't alone.

In an instant, John felt his energy levels drop drastically, but at the same time, Rogue's pulse quickened. He couldn't tell if he was making the situation worse or not, but he decided to take the risk. Something was happening...

His vision was rapidly becoming blurry. A wave of tiredness rushed over him, yet still he gripped Rogue's hand, as though holding on for dear life. "Rogue," he gasped breathlessly, "Marie, please wake up. Don't leave me..."

His eyes slid shut as he succumbed to the darkness.

In the lab next door, Xavier and Hank were in deep discussion when the Professor's eyes widened in complete horror.

"What is it, Charles?" pressed Hank.

"Get next door! Something's wrong – quickly!"

"Bobby – catch!"

Outside on the basketball court, Bobby, Warren and Piotr were shooting some hoops in the warm midday sun. Bobby had been standing completely still, gazing vacantly in no particular direction, when Piotr had passed him the ball, which hit him squarely in the head. His reaction was slow and his expression clouded.

"Um, yeah?"

Piotr shook his head irritably. "Are we playing or what? You're somewhere else!"

"He's right," Warren chipped in as he downed the water in his bottle, "you haven't been with it for the past few days." He regarded Bobby with care: his eyes were tired, his hair unkempt and his posture low. "We're all worried about her too, you know," he said softly.

Bobby rubbed the back of his head nervously. "It's just that... we don't hear anything. All we know is that they're keeping her there for tests. Anything could have happened to her." His sigh was melancholy. "They're keeping us in the dark, I know it."

"They wouldn't," Warren muttered half-heartedly, as though he didn't believe his own words.

"Don't you think it's more than a coincidence that they're keeping John under their watch too, and we don't hear anything about him either?" Bobby asked in exasperation, bouncing the basketball harshly against the ground. "I just – I feel so useless."

"Speaking of John," Piotr cut in abruptly, "don't you think he and Rogue have been getting on well since he's been back?"

Bobby shrugged nonchalantly. "I suppose so. They used to be good friends; it's nice to see them getting along again."

Piotr frowned in amusement. "You know that's not what I meant."

"Is this about your delusional idea that John had a thing for Rogue?" asked Bobby in disbelief. "I'd have known if he did, I would I noticed something..." he trailed off, unsure.

"All I'm saying is that you two haven't been all that close lately, and who do you think she's been turning to for support?" Piotr questioned knowingly. Bobby didn't answer. "I just think you need to be prepared to fight for her, if you're willing to that is."

Confused and uncertain, Bobby bounced the basketball back to Warren, grabbed his towel and left the court.


End file.
